Just Between Us
by suzukeii
Summary: When the going gets tough, screw around in bed with your rival. Multiple pairings. Lime, because screw lemons (pun intended).
1. Relationship Upgrade

"Can we have sex?"

The blunt question came out of nowhere, causing Brendan to choke on the Soda Pop in his hand. May patted him on the back in a half-hearted attempt to help, her lips pulled back from her teeth in a grimace, as he doubled over on the cushions of the sofa, hacking. It was a moment before he recovered, slowly straightening up and, with good judgement, placing the half-empty glass bottle on the coffee table in front of him.

"Well," he reasoned, sounding far more calm than he felt, "you can't just 'have sex'. You need to, you know, set the mood somehow. Besides, we're not even dating or anything."

"If there's anything I've learned from Contest experience, it's how to set a mood."

"You've only been in one Contest. Also, you didn't even win," he pointed out. He didn't bother adding that she had ignored the second reason entirely.

"I got second place!"

"_Loser_." His lips curled into a smirk as he watched her arms cross indignantly over her chest.

"Am not!"

"Are, too."

"Am _not_!" With that interjection, May pounced on the unsuspecting young man, knocking him down onto the sofa to sit over him with her hands on either side of his shoulders. Her face split into a wide grin at his widened eyes. She ducked down to deliver a swift kiss, giggling against his mouth. Just as she was about to pull away to admire her handiwork of his no doubt flushed face, Brendan stopped her from doing so with a hand snaked through her hair, returning the kiss with no less alacrity. He smiled into her, letting his tongue swipe across her bottom lip to have her give a little gasp that provided the perfect opportunity to sneak into her mouth. She could tell what flavour the Soda Pop was without having asked. Cherry Cola.

Her favourite.

Her hands found a comfortable place bunching up the dark fabric of the shirt over his chest; his settled on her waist. They stayed like that, revelling in the simple elation, until Brendan moved to sit up, at an even height with May. She shifted to wrap her legs around his waist, crossing her feet behind his back, and slid her hands up to interlace her fingers behind his neck. She was so lost in the pleasure of kissing him (_kissing Brendan_, and he was _kissing back_), she didn't even notice when his hands moved to support the curve of her bottom and he stood with her still wrapped around him, walking carefully around various pieces of furniture to make his way to the room where a bed waited, far more comfortable and suited to the purpose they were clearly going to have.

"I thought we weren't 'even dating'," May said against his lips, her expression as amused as she could manage with their faces pressed together and her eyes closed.

"I'm willing overlook that," Brendan returned, parting from her to rest his forehead on hers, grey eyes opening to meet grey eyes. A tacit challenge seemed to be issued between the two friends with the same spark present before their friendly Pokemon spars. It was only a moment before their mouths found each other's again, so by the time they nearly collapsed onto his bed together, it felt as though they'd compensated for the past twenty platonic, kiss-free years of their lives. Well, except for that time in the third grade. But that paled in comparison.

Brendan was content to let May take the lead, straddling his lap but sitting up to remove her headband. She yanked up her camisole and tossed it over somewhere to the side, to be neglected until necessary (hopefully that would not be so for some time), but at the barely concealed lust in Brendan's eyes and the digging of his fingertips into her hips, she decided to tease the poor man. She pulled up the black undershirt so tantalisingly slowly, he almost started drooling. She trailed her fingers over her shoulder, pulling down a wide strap to expose another, belonging no doubt to one of her many sports bras ("Way more comfortable," she would always contend whenever someone had the gall to ask about her preference).

He couldn't figure out why, but the thought of her wearing a sports bra instead of a regular one turned him on for some reason. Something about being slick with sweat, or being hot, or something like that. Everything just made her that much more attractive in his eyes.

Arceus, how he loved this woman.

She finally removed the offending article of clothing, leaving her topless except for the expanse of stretch fabric taut over her chest. A wolfish grin found its way onto her lips as she leaned in to hold him by the collar of his shirt.

"Why don't we...level the playing field?" she suggested, stopping just before meeting his lips yet again. Brendan could feel her hands drift down to the bottom hem of his t-shirt, cheekily reaching just a bit further to brush against the growing bulge in his pants with the side of her thumb. Any possibility of the action being an accident was discarded as she threw him a wink. She efficiently stripped him of his top, flinging it off to the side to join her own on the carpet below.

"So, any way you wanna go about this?" May met Brendan's eyes under heavy lids, letting a finger trace circles on his bare chest absentmindedly. Those big silvery pools were doing things for him. She leaned over to press kisses along his clavicle, far more sweetly than their earlier heated make-out session.

"I was kind of thinking we could just play it by ear, you know?"

"Sounds great," she murmured into the dip of his collarbone, tickling his skin with her cool breath. He felt things were going a bit slow, so he decided to turn the tables on her. Without warning, he had flipped her over onto her back, now under him.

"Dom, huh? Kinky." He met her smirk with one of his own and dove in to smother her with kisses all over her face, passing her jaw to find _terra incognita_ along her neck and throat. His kisses were greedy, devouring every inch of her skin with a fervent hunger. She'd never seen him like this before. His mouth made a return trip to hers, biting down on her lower lip. With a brief intake of breath, May had let his tongue re-enter to skate along her teeth.

The soft moans she let out made making out with his friend-turned-rival even more worthwhile. When he felt her fingers tugging at the waist of his pants, he knew he couldn't resist. A gentleman always finishes the job.

* * *

><p>"So, does this mean I'm out of the friend zone yet?" The two laid spent and tangled in messy sheets, May cradled in the curve of his torso and his arms wrapped loosely around her waist.<p>

"I was thinking of more of a 'friends with benefits' relationship." At her response, Brendan smacked a pillow over her face playfully. She swatted it away, chuckling, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"Not that I would mind, though."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I'm not saying I would mind, either. I mean, with Brendan. I have been in love with him ever since I laid eyes on his ORAS design. And his in-game expressions SQUEAL I CAN'T EVEN PICK A FAVOURITE Speaking of ORAS, I'm posting this one first in honour of these boss remakes of my childhood.**

**Also, Brendan, you kind of proved yourself wrong right there.**

**Lastly, lots of gratitude for Green Day for bringing this to you.**


	2. Victor

"Another win, huh?" Lyra looked at Silver a bit pensively, recalling her victorious Typhlosion into its Pokeball. He hated to think that it had been he who had issued the battle challenge. "Maybe with a little bit of love, you'd be able to beat me at something, Silver."

_Love_. There was that word again. That muddled word, its meaning too...varied. Too generic. There were so many better substitutions.

He didn't _love_ his Pokemon. Perhaps he was _proud_ in those shining moments when his enemies' Pokemon would fall fainted before him on the battlefield (especially when it came to that Ethan boy).

He didn't _love_ any of the number of Gym Leaders or Elite Four, much less Lance. _Admiration_, if it amounted to that.

He definitely didn't _love_ the girl in front of him, carefully applying a potion to one of her injured Pokemon. No, that wasn't love at all. That was...something entirely different.

If only he could find the word to describe the need he had to finally subdue this battling genius. The need to feel her submit to him. The need to hold her tight until she couldn't breathe, dammit. Before he could think about what he was doing (or the possible consequences of his actions), he had pushed her by her shoulders into the wall of the Pokemon Centre, digging his fingertips into her arms. Something was so very wrong about it all, he knew, but his body seemed intent on ignoring the voice in his head screaming to let go and run off per his usual manner.

"Silver, what are you…" Lyra trailed off, those big brown doe eyes blinking at him innocuously.

He didn't meet her (beautiful, warm chocolatey) eyes. He didn't say a word. He only held her against the firm wall, the only thing that wasn't spinning. After a tense moment, he made the fatal mistake of flicking his eyes up to see her expression, furrowed brow and moue and all.

"Silver-" she tried again, but she was cut off by a pair of lips crashing against hers, forcing her to dig her shoulder blades into the wall and almost shocking her into dropping the bag at her side. With the impact, she could have sworn she heard teeth click in his fervour.

For one fleeting moment, she found some kind of twisted bliss. Then, Silver parted from her flushed and left slightly out of breath from his sudden catharsis.

"I don't need _love_," he nearly hissed, face still only an inch away. "I did that, and I can assure you I feel no _love_ for you." His own words left him confused and his world spinning faster than before. He found the only remedy in meeting her mouth again with his, not even trying to keep his tongue from getting involved. After a hesitant moment, Lyra responded to his advances, hearing a rumble from deep in the young man's chest that he let escape as a soft moan. He extracted himself from her lips to trail hungry kisses down her jaw to her ear.

"Silver," Lyra gasped between the spikes of pleasure running up and down her body, "don't you...think...we should get...a room?"

"Mmm...good idea," he breathed against the sensitive skin of her neck, and Lyra could just barely detect the growl behind his words. "I was just thinking the same thing." A blatant lie - he hadn't been thinking, really, at all. At least not with his head.

So he pulled away, dragging Lyra by the arm through the sliding doors of the Centre, lust-hazed eyes catching sight of the hallway leading to his temporary sleeping quarters during his brief stay in Cherrygrove City. He fumbled with the key, managing to get it in the lock after about three and a half tries with his shaking hands and straying imagination. It was a small wonder he didn't rip the door right off its hinges in his ardour, followed by a slightly dazed Lyra. Once again, as soon as the door shut, Silver's body acted before his mind, grabbing the young woman by her elbow and all but throwing her on the bed. She'd hardly pulled her hat off and pigtails out when he crawled over to straddle her, his knees on both sides of her hips.

"Sh-shoes," she managed between his voracious kisses and he gave barely a thought as he kicked off his sneakers, adeptly pulling hers off as well with only his feet. I wasn't long before his jacket and shirt, as well as her own blouse, had followed the shoes to the floor. The bed sheets twisted beneath them; his hands felt everywhere at once - tangled in her soft brown hair, pressing into the small of her back, ghosting over her chest. His mouth was even busier, occasionally offering a nip at which Lyra would let out a whimper. Leave thinking over the rash decision for later.

He was enjoying this too much, winning.

Both were in so deep, even the girl's hands straying to the hem of Silver's pants, neither noticed the door softly open to allow in the sterile white light of the corridor.

"Ah, e-excuse me, sir!" Both Silver and Lyra looked up (one annoyed, the other ashamed) to see the silhouette of a young woman, hardly more than a girl, covering her eyes. The light from the shaded window was enough to discern her uniform designating her as a cleaning maid, as well as the darkening of her cheeks. "You didn't lock the door! I'll c-come back later!" She hurriedly shut the door, leaning crumpled against the whitewashed walls of the hall outside, eyes wide open despite the change back to the bright light.

It wasn't long before the two in the near dark returned to the task at hand.

**A/N: God, Silver is the greatest seme to ever exist in the annals of Pokemon fanfiction. Miaow. I swear, this is the closest thing I'll ever get to writing smut.**


	3. Pas de Deux

"_Arabesque_, and...yes! Beautiful!" The music swelled and ebbed like ocean waves as the _danseur noble_ and _prima ballerina_ waltzed across the wide expanse of the stage. "_Piqué_, _piqué_, _chaîné_..." the choreographer trailed off, his words unnecessary for the two whose bodies were already so familiar with the movements (each other) from the weeks of late night practices (rendezvous). With the beginning of a softly melodic piece, the two slowed together smoothly into the final section, a lyrical bit relying on expression and the ability of the _danseur_ to show off the elegance and beauty of his _danseuse_. He gently supported her, his hands only barely brushing against her sides as necessary to hold her in place as she tilted into an impossibly long _penché_ that seemed to extend to the ceiling. He straightened her back up, slowly turning her _en pointe_ to face him, her arms softly curved over her head. Her hands drifted down to settle on his shoulders as they held each other's gaze. Then, silence as the music came to a conclusion.

"_Bravi_! _Bravi_! That was wonderful!" The choreographer launched into applause. "The emotion was extraordinary! I'd say this was your best one yet, despite a brief absence." He gave Touya a meaningful look, and the two relaxed from their ending pose, each sending the beaming man a smile. "So strong, Touya! And such an exquisite little flower you are, Touko."

"Thank you, Wallace," the young man returned politely as his partner gave a small curtsy in obeisance. "I still could use some work on that _tour jeté_ combination, however."

"So modest," Wallace gushed. "Stay and practice some more if you like, but don't overtire yourself or my _prima_." He pressed his lips chastely to Touko's outstretched hand before checking the watch on his wrist. "I'll be taking my leave now. Farewell!" The dancers waved a goodbye to him until he was out of sight and they could hear the backstage door shut with the familiar bang.

Hardly a moment had passed in the ensuing silence when Touko felt herself get swept away by strong, familiar arms. They twirled, faster and faster while she let out a tinkling laugh, their eyes locked on each other's, across the grand wooden floor until a collision with the curtain seemed inevitable. At the last moment, Touya swung his partner into a dip so low, her bun nearly touched the ground. He lowered his face to touch his lips to the hollow of her collarbone, tracing up her chin until he could meet her eyes once again. His heart must have been hammering against his ribcage loud enough for Touko to hear, his breath quickened like her own.

"Good evening, princess."

* * *

><p>"You felt tense today," Touya said offhandedly as he supported Touko in another <em>pirouette<em> turn.

"Wallace didn't seem to think so," she replied, extending a leg out of the turn to step out into a graceful lunge. She pulled her feet together to come _en pointe_ with his arms resting on her waist. As she drifted a hand down the side of her partner's face, he grabbed it and held it to keep her from pulling away.

"I think," he breathed between kisses pressed to the tips of her fingers, "that you...have been...feeling lonely...without me for the past few days." He smiled at her averted gaze. They returned to the duet for their eyes only, and Touko suddenly felt as though every move, every sensation was amplified - his fingertips brushing lightly against her torso sent chills up her spine, his cool breath raised goosebumps on her neck, his brown eyes issued an unspoken challenge. The week-long withdrawal from him seemed to have that effect; she wondered if she had slowly become accustomed, desensitised to him over the course of months of trysts. There was a difference between familiar and mundane, after all. Perhaps his absence had been a blessing rather than the curse she's originally claimed it to be.

It was like a rebirth.

To shed the layers and old skin of before, to expose the new, to continue to grow. He lifted her in a sort of sit on his shoulder, one of his hands firmly holding her by the thigh draped over his chest, the other supporting her by the curve of her back. Was it only her, or did his hand seem closer than she remembered? Yes, certainly he wasn't supposed to...!

Touko's fall in her surprise was stopped by the same digits that had caused it with their intimate proximity in the first place, gently placing her down on solid ground. His fingertips skated up from her waist to rest at her cheeks, and Touya tilted his head in to kiss her on the lips for the first time that evening, a sweet, chaste, young kiss.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" he asked, letting his thumbs slide over the rise of her cheekbones.

"You," she admitted, half-truthfully. _Us_ was more accurate. Touya chuckled, pulling her in for a simple twirling waltz.

"Only good things, I hope?" Touko's mind was wandering again, however, leaving his question hanging in the air between them. Was he this handsome before leaving? When did his eyes become so warm and chocolatey? Had she forgotten already? There was one thing she knew for certain.

She needed a drink.

* * *

><p>"My replacement, what was his name?" Touya wondered aloud after taking a sip from his glass. "Liam? Luke?" He laid comfortably on his bed, Touko's head resting on his solid chest as she traced morose circles on her bare abdomen. The two had exchanged their practice attire for something more comfortable, namely, their undergarments, upon entering Touya's flat.<p>

"Lucas," she answered glibly. "He doesn't like Luke."

"What else does he not like?"

"Lazy people. Entrance exams. Those biotin supplements, he thinks they taste like dog food. And being seen as a replacement," she added after a moment's pause.

"You seem to know a lot about this Lucas guy."

"You can learn a lot when people get drunk with you." Touya didn't know how to react. Drunk, she hadn't said anything about a relationship... Why was he even fretting over this anyway? He'd been gone (left her) for a week; their own relationship was hardly anything official; the replacement was gone. His fingers absentmindedly ran through her thick, brown hair, tangling in an occasional knot. She needed to pick it up so often into a bun; he hadn't even realised it was getting so long.

"You're so quiet," Touko noted, tilting her head up to look at his neutral expression. The sapphire blue of her eyes just made him want to melt.

That had been the first thing he'd noticed about her.

The day he'd met his partner under the watchful eyes of Wallace, he didn't believe in love at first sight. It was childish and unrealistic. As he pressed his lips to her knuckles in the gesture he'd picked up from his dance master, he met her gaze and his heart stopped with an audible thump. He hid the attraction well, though he sometimes wondered if she only pretended to ignore the flush, the heat, of his skin when he would look at her in his arms during rehearsals. They reached another milestone when he'd offered to take her out for a friendly drink after a successful final performance of the season. He learned to love her, actually love her, when her speech became frank from the alcohol and she answered questions he'd never even posed. That had been the first night they'd slept together.

Now, as he looked at her, cradled in his arms, he wondered if she loved him as well, despite his faults.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Absence makes the heart grow fonder, I suppose. Also debated whether to name this one "Pas de Deux" or "Renaissance", the latter meaning literally "rebirth" if you didn't realise it (it took me a while). So I was in ballet class, and I'm just like, Wouldn't it be swell to write something dancy? First I was thinking ferriswheelshipping, but then I'm like, Nah, this is my OTP for Touko.**

**OH MY GOSH So many words in _italics_. Sorry, people reading this on a 3DS. I know your plight only too well.**

**This could not have been completed without unending support from Spotify and the classical ballet music available on it.**


	4. Bet On It

New Bark Town couldn't have been any quainter in the winter if it tried.

It also couldn't have been any fucking _colder_, as Crystal buried her chin deeper into her scarf, frozen fingers dug into her deep pockets. The downy winter coat offered little protection from the biting evening wind that seemed to cut straight through to her bones. (It had appeared warm enough when she'd pulled it out of her closet that morning.) Her breath came in white puffy clouds to match the blanket of soft snow covering everything in sight. She was spared the pleasure of trudging through the two feet of slush; some good Samaritan had happened to plow the sidewalk. Thankfully, her home wasn't located too far from the lab where she assisted the Professor in his research, only down the street. Down the street populated by warm, inviting cafés and storefronts that she could duck into for just one teeny sec-

No, she had a mission. To get home. Crystal steeled herself, speed walking with purposeful strides past the small pond popular in summer (now it was iced over and hardly the tourist attraction of the warmer months in Johto). Right, left, ri-

Wait, what?

Out of the corner of her eye, Crystal caught sight of someone..._familiar_...sitting on an otherwise empty, frozen bench beside the pond, stopping her in her tracks. The opportunity was too bizarre to pass up, so she carefully made her way through the snow to stand beside the hunched figure and pulled down her scarf.

"What are you doing out here in the cold?" The young man, bundled up in his own coat, scarf, and not to mention large winter boots, looked up at Crystal with a slightly incredulous expression.

"Wow, for a second there, Kris, you sounded like you actually cared." Her cheeks weren't rosy only from the cold now.

"In your dreams, Gold."

"Every night," he was quick to respond with a bright smile. "Anyway, I didn't really have plans for today. You know, everybody ringing in the New Year with their _baes_, if you know what I mean." She raised her eyebrows at this.

"I'm surprised you haven't grabbed some chick yet to swap spit with tonight."

"Then it must be fate that we met, hmm?" He sent another cheeky grin her way, her cheeks reddening. She crossed her arms over her chest and huffed. _Illegally adorable_, Gold thought.

"Well, maybe I have plans."

"Kris, that's a damn lie and we both know it. But enough with the pleasantries, it's cold as balls out here. Coffee?" It was a moment before Crystal grunted something of an acceptance to his invitation, muttering something about getting out of a giant ice box.

The coffee and the interior of a building (granted, it was Gold's house) was a welcome change from the freezing world outside. The first sip burned her tongue, but that hardly stopped Crystal from taking another.

"Hot," Gold had said when handing the steaming mug to her.

"I hope so."

"I was talking about you stripping that sweater off, but I guess the coffee's pretty hot, too." She'd almost spit the drink out at this, but she actually found that it tasted so amazing it would have been a waste of good coffee. She supposed Gold was entitled to be good at at least one thing.

Now she sat comfortably settled into Gold's couch, fingers wrapped around the mug and sufficiently thawed. The young man stealthily stretched his arm up and over to wrap around her shoulders, and, to his surprise, she didn't try to shrug him off, even going so far as to lean into his available chest. He hesitantly wrapped his other arm around her waist - when had Super Serious Gal ever been so compliant? His gaze lingered over the girl in his arms, silently admiring the not-so subtle curves of her chest and the pout of her lips. Everything about her just screamed "Take me, Gold! I'm right here, and in a good mood!" He tilted his head down to murmur against her neck, just below her ear.

"I'm better than spending the night alone."

"Actually," she said, leaning over to place the empty mug down on a side table, "_nobody_ would be better company." She smacked a hand across her face as he grinned at the misconstrued meaning of her words. Her completely expectable snark had fallen a bit flat.

"I'm glad you think so, Kris." He turned her to face him and pulled her against his chest, her hands caught in between the two of them. He tossed a glance at the digital clock on the kitchen counter: 0.00. "Especially now." Before she could register what was going on (much less analyse it for scientific purposes), a pair of lips unceremoniously crashed against hers. Her widened eyes slowly closed in the pleasure that seemed to radiate through her body (that she would vehemently deny if Gold ever brought it up), and her hands twisted into fists bunching up the front of his woolly sweater. At the blatantly obvious sign of reciprocation, Gold tangled a hand into Crystal's blue locks, released from their usual pigtails, and gave them a good yank. She released a muttered "Hey" against his (too damn soft) lips but didn't offer any much more of a retaliation. It was apparent that he'd also prepared some coffee for himself; the taste, _his_ taste, was like another helping of the rich brew. They only broke apart, breathing a little ragged, after realising that oxygen may be a good thing. Warm amber eyes gazed at the flush on Crystal's cheeks; Gold was almost giddy, his thoughts twirling.

"There," she declared. "I changed things up a bit this year. I hope you're happy."

"Elated." He pulled her into him by way of a hand cupping her bottom, leaving her to sit straddling his lap, her face once again close enough to feel the heat radiating off of his. "Have I ever told you what a nice ass you have?" Crystal rolled her eyes.

"Countless times."

"Well, it's true." He stuck a hand down the back of her pants to pinch her buttock, eliciting an indignant cross between a snarl and a yelp. His expression suddenly turned serious. "Kris, you look so fuckable right now." What was he saying? The girl's head didn't feel up to processing speed, and the world seemed to come to a standstill.

"Pl-" She cut herself off abruptly. Please, she'd almost said. Like she wanted him to touch her, play with her, pleasure her..._please_ her. "All right," she found herself conceding anyway, "but I'm pretty sure I'll regret this for the rest of my life." Gold was too excited to give a damn about her sudden change of heart.

"And I'm willing to bet a large amount of money that I don't have that you'll love it."

So that's how Crystal managed to get herself in her sworn rival's bed, while said rival himself hung over her, his mouth everywhere at once. Her turtleneck had been discarded to leave her exposed except for the lacy black bra she regretted putting on that morning, whose borders Gold was now tracing sensuously with the tip of his tongue. The air was thick and warm, nearly uncomfortably so. He slowly sat up, letting his hands slide down to rest on the elastic of her matching underwear. He whistled lowly, his eyes drifting up and down her figure.

"Now that's a view I could get used to."

"Enjoy it while it lasts," Crystal said, knowing he would certainly do just that. "This is not happening again, I guarantee you."

Gold clucked. "Let's not make hasty decisions, Kris. You haven't even tasted the main course yet." Crystal hadn't even begun to imagine the innuendo behind his words when his hand slipped in between her sticky thighs and made her see stars.

Morning came, bright enough to make her head throb and about four hours too late for Crystal's liking. _In bed until 11, what would the professor say?_ Gold, still half-asleep with his arms loosely wrapped around her, nuzzled her into his chest. Their late-night tryst was evident; the bedsheets still lay tangled around their limbs, her matted hair splayed across the pillows.

"Good morning, beautiful," Gold murmured in her ear, his voice softer than he'd hoped (expected). He placed a chaste kiss on her nose as her eyes fluttered open to meet his amber ones. She'd never realised how truly long his eyelashes were, how warm and inviting the colour of his irises. She supposed she'd been too busy fending off his advances and teasing. What a change to see him subdued like this. "Ready for breakfast?"

"You mean lunch." They both let out a laugh, tinkling in the cool morning air. The scene would have been perfect if it hadn't been for the nagging pain in her forehead. "I didn't realise you could get a hangover from coffee," she mused, half to herself.

"Anything you feel is probably from the champagne," Gold spoke up matter-of-factly. With dawning realisation, Crystal felt a welling sense of...anger? Annoyance? Shock? Nothing good.

"What the hell? You put _champagne_ in my coffee yesterday?" Explains why it tasted so..._exotic_. She pushed her way out of the bed, grumbling about never trusting a man who makes good coffee ever again as she slipped on the man's robe to ward off the cold that had begun to seep in.

"Hey! I put champagne in my coffee, too!"

She covered her eyes out of reflex as he stood, the bed sheet sliding off of him to reveal, well, everything.

"Oh, relax," he said, pulling on a new pair of boxer shorts. "It's nothing you haven't seen before."

"Actually, I've seen way better," Crystal found she had the gall to retort as her hands lowered. She still kept her eyes averted until she was absolutely certain he was decently covered. When she looked back, the corners of his lips had turned up in a self-satisfied smirk.

"Hey, remember that little _bet_ we had, oh... Around two months ago?" Crystal blanched at the memory, one she'd been suppressing.

"You mean the one where you get into my pants?" She leaned against the doorframe as he stepped toward her. That ridiculous bet had seemed plain idiotic on his part all those weeks ago.

"That's the one. And looks like I've finally won, as expected." Gold encircled her waist with his arms again, resting his forehead on hers to look directly into those deep blue eyes. Those deep blue eyes, narrowed with irritation.

"You cocky idiot. We were drunk. It didn't count."

"Did you feel drunk?" he questioned with utmost seriousness, pulling his face away but keeping his fingers interlaced behind her. "Because I didn't. You're no Yellow, half an ounce of champagne isn't even going to get you tipsy. I bet you wouldn't even have realised I spiked your coffee if I hadn't told you."

Crystal found that she didn't want to take up any bets against Gold anymore. He had an uncanny ability to always win.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Ah, I remember when I first learned of mangaquestshipping. Now it's practically part of a balanced diet for me. There's one more after this.**


	5. Distraction

"You cad. You utterly _deplorable_ cad. You insufferable, rakish, lascivious…" The rest of her words were smothered against Blue's neck. "I could just wrap my long, smooth legs around your waist, letting my fingers trail down your sculpted chest while I keep your mouth occupied with mine…" He couldn't help the animalistic growl from the back of his throat or the curling of his toes in sheer anticipation.

Something was rising, and it wasn't Pokemon levels.

"You're such a damn tease," Blue groaned. His shirt was already off, as part of what constituted his usual pyjamas. He knew that the only thing separating more intimate parts of their skin was the thin, summer nightgown Leaf was wearing, the skirt riding up to her waist. It was as though she didn't even realise that the brushing of the cotton fabric of her underwear was seriously doing things for him, but he knew better than that. Leaf was entirely aware of exactly what effect she had on him, however deeply he tried to bury his needs beneath piles of Gym paperwork. What he wouldn't give to rip it all right off.

Of course, she'd only chastise him for ruining a perfectly good (concealing) nightgown, and he probably wouldn't end getting some that night (though tomorrow was another thing - she couldn't stay mad at him for too long, especially after emptying his wallet shopping).

So he settled for unhooking the buttons over her sternum, one at a time, with fingers that suddenly seemed too big and clumsy for the tiny pieces. Leaf slid one strap off her shoulder with a sultry look in her hazel eyes in an impatient attempt to encourage him to _hurry the fuck up_, but he didn't hasten to finish, considering it an exercise in willpower. Willpower that was slowly draining as he inhaled nothing but her scent, that beautiful mix of lilac and something else he couldn't quite place that smelled amazing nonetheless.

"Blue," she nearly sang, moving a leg to wrap around his waist and fit their pelvises more neatly together. "Don't you want this?" She slid the nightgown to expose a breast with a whoosh of cooler air and fluttered her eyelashes.

"What gave you the idea I wouldn't?" Blue smirked and left the buttons halfway undone, grabbing instead at her bottom to give it a tight squeeze (she let out a slight gasp but recovered) and hitching her leg up by the knee to pull her even more snugly against him. He let his mouth wander to plant chaste kisses along her throat up to her ear, nipping at her earlobe before tracing the line of her jaw with the tip of his tongue toward his final destination. His lips captured hers in a (not nearly as chaste) kiss that let a moan escape past his teeth, followed soon by one of her own. He relished in the sound. True to her word, Leaf's hands slid down his torso, across the pectorals and his abdomen to catch her thumbs on the elastic waistband of his flannel pants.

Sometimes Blue wondered if it was all just a dream he was about to wake up from.

"Why do you wear a shirt, anyway?" He couldn't help but roll his eyes at her question. "You look so much better without it."

"Maybe if you got rid of this..." He trailed off hopefully, pulling pointedly at the skirt that seemed far too in the way for his liking.

"All in good time," she managed before moulding her mouth to his again. It took all of his logical side (there wasn't much of that left) to hold her away long enough to look into her lusty eyes.

"You're going to make me wait now, after being so impatient earlier?" he asked in all seriousness (though it was certainly becoming difficult to keep from mashing his lips against hers in a passionate fervour). "I think it's time we got rid of this." With some help on Leaf's part, Blue carefully shifted to allow the thin cloth to escape, leaving the young woman in all of her natural glory beside him. She didn't give him any time to enjoy the view before diving in to meet his tongue with hers again. Her hands tangled into his auburn hair while two of his fingers managed to find their way between her thighs and give a tweak that delivered a wave of utter pleasure through her entire body. She showed her appreciation by biting down on his lip, nearly drawing blood, and sliding a hand roughly into the front of his boxer shorts beneath the pants. He slipped his fingers past the soaked cotton of her panties and-

RING RING RING RING

Both of them groaned at the sound of the landline conveniently located on the nightstand. Without bothering to check the caller ID, Blue picked up and muttered a "Hello?" into the receiver. Please let this be brief.

"Blue? This is you, right?"

"Yes, Red, it's me. What do you need?" Blue turned away from Leaf's hungrily exploring fingers making their way into his underwear. "Listen," he implored as the young woman let out a particularly loud moan that was clearly intended for not only her lover's ears. The brash little minx. She curled over his side to trail kisses up and down his neck, and his breathing grew shallower. "I'm a little busy right now, so if you could call back, oh, I don't know, tomorrow, that'd be _great_!" His voice rose at the end as he felt a squeeze from his lower area, and he shot as much of a glare at the culprit (with an expectedly innocent expression on her face) as he could muster.

"R-right, it sounds like you are," Red's voice came hesitantly from the other end of the line.

"Hi, Red!" Blue's hand, occupied with constraining both of her wrists, wasn't nearly quick enough to cover her mouth before the incriminating words came out. When he did reach it to prevent further damage, she cheekily swiped her tongue across his palm, but Blue kept his hand firmly planted over her face. The only thing he could think was, _Please tell me he didn't recognise her voice, please, Arceus, please..._

"Blue? Am I imagining things, or did I just hear Leaf's voice?"

Blue made a mental note to never pray again. He couldn't think of a proper response, so he settled for a noncommittal "Err..."

Red's voice started to sound strained on the other end. "Dude, if you're screwing my sister, just tell me. I'm not gonna go all psycho protective brother over her." A heavy silence hung between the two on the line.

"Well-"

"Oh, Blue, touch me like that again!" Leaf exclaimed. In his shock, he'd somehow loosened his hold on her face. "Please be gentle~" He hastily covered her mouth again, face as red as he imagined his interlocutor's to be.

"Listen, Red, I can explain-"

"Oh, please, don't let me interrupt your pleasure trip!" Red cut across, managing to sound flustered and sour at the same time. "I wouldn't want to impose!" With a click, he disconnected. Blue replaced the telephone in the cradle, blowing out a sigh as he fell back into the pillows of the bed.

"I guess you'll have some explaining to do tomorrow, won't you," Leaf murmured with a silky gaze up to his face, resting her chin on his chest as she reached up to tousle his brown locks.

"No, Leaf. We'll have some explaining to do." He pulled her against him again, looking at her with hooded eyes. "Now, since your brother thinks we've already had sex, we might as well, hmm?"

"I thought we'd never get to that part." She smiled against his lips as he pulled her in again.

The brash little minx.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Still my OTP. Also, loud telephones save authors from writing smut.**

**I guess this would make sense game-verse if the female protagonist were Leaf instead of Lyra in HGSS, and if Red actually TALKED in the game. And, let's face it, Blue's HGSS design = hot. Just _look_ at him. Mmm.**

**Thanks be to Jessica Simpson, who has bless'd me with the inspiration to write this.**


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